


finding port in a storm

by claimedbydaryl



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Falling In Love, I LIKE U, M/M, dunno how to tag this but they finally get over the at odds phase and go OH, implied frobin and namivivi too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claimedbydaryl/pseuds/claimedbydaryl
Summary: The last person Sanji wants to see is Zoro, but with barely anyone home and nothing else to do, he doesn't really have much of a choice now, does he?Part of the One Piece 2020 Mid-Year Set Sail Exchange!
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 25
Kudos: 142
Collections: Set Sail One Piece Mid Year Exchange 2020





	finding port in a storm

**Author's Note:**

> for @marchthorn on tumblr as part of the one piece set sail exchange!

The bad weather hadn’t cleared up in days; it was starting to make Sanji twitch. It’d kept everyone inside their sharehouse, like a landlocked ship at a portside village. Usopp had mused on how nice it would be to have some coffee that wasn’t stuck to the bottom of a pot, even when hail had pelted down on the roof only an hour ago. They were all broke college students who couldn’t afford a fancy machine to steam milk or whatever, and Luffy was banned from having caffeine—but that only made Luffy more restless to adventure out for it, of course.

Sanji huffed again as he stared outside the kitchen’s stormy window. Robin and Nami had left with Usopp, Brook, and Luffy on the promise of coffee—even though the rain was still relentless—which left Sanji to look after Franky and Chopper all while cooking. Zoro, too. That idiot, a few years into failing a sports major, with his green— _green_ , really?—hair and stupid mouth. Sanji flexed his fingers at the thought of him, because Zoro had always made his tongue sharp and his blood run hot. Since meeting that crazy mature-age musician, Brook, it had only gotten worse.

The weather wasn’t making it any better, either. They were confined to the house, with half of them gone, and the other half not half as interesting as Sanji’s lovely ladies. Oh, why didn’t he go with Luffy? He was used to a bustling restaurant for his part-time work, and then an even more rambunctious household, not _this_.

At least he had Chopper. Not that he didn’t like the others, but Franky usually forgot to eat at mealtimes if he was tinkering in the garage, and Zoro… Well. Sanji ran his hand across the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin.

“What am I doing?” Sanji asked aloud.

Then, finally, he set to doing what he’d been putting off all evening. Chopper had already eaten with him earlier on. He’d even started helping with the meal prep, standing beside Sanji in the kitchen, chattering away excitedly. It was more a nuisance than anything, but Sanji enjoyed spending time with him. They’d made their own dinner, and then Sanji sent Chopper to give Franky some food to sustain him through the night. It was soup—simple and warm. He had planned to give Zoro’s portion to Chopper, too, but he hadn’t come back.

The sun had long set below the horizon, and Sanji knew Zoro would be hungry.

Making sure the plate covering the bowl of food was secure, Sanji threw on a coat that Usopp had left near the door and stepped out into the rain. It was still coming down hard, dammit. Across the backyard was an old rickety shed they’d converted into Zoro’s makeshift gym. Mud squelched under his boots as Sanji trudged over, grumbling _stupid seaweed musclehead_ and _dumbbell-brain can’t even come in for dinner_. Jerking the door to the gym open, Sanji was surprised that Zoro didn’t immediately throw a bench-press at him and growl about a late dinner.

Although it soon became very clear why, with Sanji’s face flaming with warmth under the wet chill of the rain. Zoro was lying down flat on his back on the matted floor, his bandana pulled low over his eyes. Relaxed but not completely unalert. It wasn’t difficult for Sanji to smile at the sight of Chopper lazing across Zoro’s stomach, snoring away. Pre-med really wiped that kid out sometimes.

“I can’t move,” Zoro said, which was a whole two more words than Sanji thought he’d ever let slip out. Usually his language was monosyllabic responses or half-hearted grunts.

“You shouldn’t,” Sanji fired back.

“Don’t think so low of me, shitty cook.”

Their banter was well-worn into, comforting in its familiarity. That’s what Sanji loved about his friends so much—their ability to relax around each other, how genuine they were. Maybe Sanji was most himself—loud, honest, unbending—around Zoro that it made him act the way he did. That’s why it made his chest tighten, of course. Nothing else.

“Here,” Sanji said eventually, lowering the bowl next to Zoro. It was a nicety that threw them off their rhythm of veiled insults and grating comments.

Sanji wasn’t used to being quiet with Zoro. Their housemates usually filled in that space between them. Rowdy and distracting; always a reason to keep Sanji’s attention focused on someone else—anyone but Zoro.

Taking his dinner with an affirmative grunt, Zoro sloppily spooned it into his mouth.

“You’re disgusting.”

Zoro huffed. The corners of his mouth were nearly curled into a smile, though. Sanji noticed he was careful of disturbing Chopper, even in an awkward position as he was. And that Zoro was watching him, like Sanji watched Nami or Robin sunbathe outside on deck chairs, or Franky bedazzle the boys with another body modification to his car—it was fond. Affectionate.

Shaking his head, Sanji turned to leave. It was still raining hard outside, but he couldn’t be in this room much longer. He might really do something stupid. The door was solid beneath his palm. Oh, he wasn’t moving, was he?

“Stay here.”

“What?” Sanji’s voice was high-pitched, already too late to fake composure.

“It’s too quiet inside the house, isn’t it?”

A sharp inhale whistled between Sanji’s teeth. “Yeah.”

“Chopper’s not going to move, and Franky will probably sleep in the garage tonight.” Zoro pushed the bowl somewhere on the floor away from him, raising up his arm to leave an inviting space for Sanji beside him. “It’s cold, anyway. You’ll get wet going out again.”

It wasn’t weird, like the offer wasn’t weird, nor the response. Chopper dozed on everyone’s lap or across their shoulders at some point. Luffy and Usopp had no sense of personal space. Everyone was used to touching—they lived with each other, after all. They expected it, almost. Sanji was halfway certain that sometimes Robin crept down into Franky’s workshop to sleep—or whatever—with Franky some nights, too, which he vehemently refused to acknowledge.

So, Sanji went. He bunched up his jacket for a pillow and laid down facing Zoro. They weren’t touching, but in his sleep, Chopper’s stretched out lazily, his heels pressing into Sanji’s stomach. He had gotten into college so young—a wonder kid, he was—that it made Sanji think that maybe he was looking after a younger brother sometimes.

Then Sanji made the mistake of looking up. Zoro was staring at Sanji, in that wordless, searching way of his, where Sanji could see everything that was going on beneath. He hated how Zoro made him feel. Open, vulnerable. Like all his fears and insecurities and irrational little tics were blown up and thrown back at him.

“Zoro—” He’d spoken before he really thought about what he was gonna say.

“Don’t.” It was cutting, final.

Brow creasing into angry disgruntlement, Sanji was halfway to pushing himself up onto an elbow. “Fuck you,” he spat out lowly. “I didn’t even—”

“I meant _don’t_ while Chopper’s sleeping,” Zoro said, raising an eyebrow at him. He almost swore that he was smirking at him, too. “Tell me in the morning.”

Sanji’s nose scrunched as he sneered at Zoro. “There’s nothing to tell.” And what did he expect—Sanji to graciously say thanks for not making him sleep in a big, empty house? It was bullshit. Dumb, idiot, stupid, lazy, confident, fucking absolutely stacked asshole who thought he knew it all.

Zoro merely just hummed, eyelids fluttering to a close. “Just go to sleep.”

It was so preposterously casual that Sanji didn’t even have the fight in him to argue, to needle an easily aggravated Zoro into biting back. To fall into their usual routine. Not with Chopper there, though, and not when Zoro was so clearly ready to put down his swords and just be with Sanji like they sometimes were. When Zoro silently appeared to help do the dishes, or when Sanji received a voicemail from his family and Zoro pretended to nap at the kitchen bench so Sanji wouldn’t have to be alone as he stress-baked.

Chopper being there made it easier, somehow. There was something between them—safe and calming. Sanji, sighing, finally relented. He lowered back into a resting position beside Zoro on his makeshift pillow and closed his eyes.

The sound of rain was a melody that soothed Sanji, even when the phone in his pocket buzzed. It was probably Usopp asking if he wanted a McDonald’s soft serve ice cream—or informing him that he’d taken Luffy to the hospital because of some inane stunt. He didn’t even mind when he felt Zoro shift closer, leg nudging between his. Sanji had fallen asleep listening to Chopper mumble about capillary systems, and Zoro’s breath was warm and close to him.

Dammit, Sanji had woken up to a painful crick in his neck. In that uneasy half-drowsiness, he noticed that he wasn’t in his bed—his pillow wasn’t that stiff, nor that… _muscled_. And his pillow wasn’t attached to a familiar moss-headed asshole who had an arm slung around his waist and was snoring loudly into his hair. _Shit_. He’d meant to move before he’d completely fell asleep. Sanji’s hand was clenched in the back of Zoro’s workout singlet with Zoro’s leg between his. Blindly, Sanji felt around for Chopper, but there was nothing between him and Zoro anymore.

Oh, of course Chopper wasn’t there anymore. It was just him and Zoro. _Fuck._

Slowly, carefully, as not to disturb Zoro and face a conversation he didn’t really want to have, Sanji pulled away. Except Zoro’s grip tightened around his waist and held him in place.

“Didn’t you have something to tell me?” Zoro mumbled, eyes blinking open.

Scowling, Sanji shoved his arm off. “No.”

“Hey, idiot—”

Sanji slapped Zoro’s reaching hand away before he’d even finished speaking. “No,” he repeated, but Zoro was never one to really listen to Sanji. He caught his wrist, eyes now shining brightly, and rolled Sanji over until Zoro was half-leaning over his body. The places where they touched were startlingly warm. Zoro stared at Sanji, mouthing a start of a sentence before Sanji made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, grating his voice, and got a leg between them.

Their fight begun in the way it usually did—borne out of nothing more than a mindless disagreement, words too much to say when actions were obvious and easy.

They ended up on either side of the makeshift gym, both up on their feet. Sanji had managed to put some distance between himself and Zoro, but Zoro was so much more than he ever let on. The slouchy drawstring pants and yawns that characterised Zoro weren’t a sign of laziness, because here he was, legs braced apart and grinning. Ready to fight. It would’ve been a bald-faced lie if Sanji said he wasn’t smiling, too. He stuck his hands in his pants and raised one leg up, poised.

It was a fairly short-lived event. They had only thrown over a bench-press and put a dumbbell through a wall before Nami had come banging on the door. “Shut up, dumbasses! It’s six in the goddamn morning and Vivi’s trying to sleep!” The sound rattled through the shed, startling Sanji and Zoro into a standstill. Or, well, whatever that could be called with Zoro flat on his back and Sanji’s knee directly pressed on his chest.

They stared at each other, panting, as the blood in their veins beat hot and fast. Sanji watched a bead of sweat roll down Zoro’s cheek to his neck; and Sanji noticed Zoro’s fingers on his wrist twitch as a flyaway strand blond hair tickled his nose, as if Zoro wanted to touch it.

Funny thing was, when Zoro usually took this moment to grunt and push Sanji away, he didn’t. Instead, he brushed Sanji’s hair back from his face. Everything seized in Sanji. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away, couldn’t do more than just feel Zoro touch him. And worst of all—he liked it.

“Hey,” Sanji managed to get out, but not much else.

Zoro’s thumb pressed the space just by his mouth, dangerously close.

They didn’t do this. They didn’t touch outside of fighting. Ugh, they barely even had a quasi-sentient conversation unless it was an emergency. Not because they didn’t want to, it just meant… It just meant that they wouldn’t have to do this and actually confront what lay between them.

“Zoro,” Sanji said his name but again Zoro didn’t let him finish.

As Zoro pushed himself up; Sanji let his knee fall astride Zoro’s torso so he was nearly sitting on him. The silence seemed to make everything—the way Zoro’s breath was warm on him, the feeling of his muscled body beneath Sanji—so much more real, more tangible. Sanji rested his hands on his legs because there was nowhere else for them to go.

Zoro didn’t give Sanji much more time to think, because he was still touching him, and Sanji had always wanted to do the same, but now they were doing it and—

Zoro kissed him, ever so briefly—and suddenly everything made sense.

“Oh.” Sanji’s fingers touched his lips.

“Yeah,” Zoro echoed, and kissed him again, and with more confidence than before. Maybe because Sanji was kissing him back, with a hand curling around his neck.

For the first time in days, the bad weather didn’t set Sanji on a razor-fine edge. He wasn’t restless, looking for an escape, or for a conflict—but instead to find an anchor in a storm. As Zoro continued to kiss Sanji, Sanji managed to tell Zoro not to stop between those kisses. Because maybe this was what they’d needed all along.

Maybe Zoro was what Sanji had needed all along.

Suddenly, the weather didn't seem that bad anymore.


End file.
